


Three Brothers II - Saewron Dawncaller

by Hedonick



Series: Battle for Azeroth: Biographies [4]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Family Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedonick/pseuds/Hedonick
Summary: Saewron Dawncaller always felt slightly out of place. In comparison to his brothers and father, he never desired to become a heroic fighter. Despite choosing the profession of a rogue for himself, he is neither a reckless pirate, nor a ruthless shadow shrouded killer.His uncertainty regarding his role in life grows all the more, after he accidentally gets transformed into a void elf and hence gets transferred from the Horde to the Alliance. Now he not only has to grind out a place for himself within the new faction, but also has to deal with the whispers of the void. And as usual, he does this a little different from everybody else.
Series: Battle for Azeroth: Biographies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972672
Kudos: 1





	Three Brothers II - Saewron Dawncaller

In comparison to their seven years older brother, Saewron and his twin Orthorin were born in a peaceful phase of Quel’Thalas. The last traces of the destruction the invasion of the Horde and mainly the Armani trolls had left during the Second War in the Eversong Woods had been removed years ago and the home of the Dawncaller family at Fairbreeze Village looked as picturesque as ever.  
One of Saewron’s earliest memories dated back to these times: of him and Orthorin playing tag with Inean – they were aged four or maybe five – running through the forests flowering white, golden and red in eternal springtime for what felt like forever, constantly outwitting their older brother to prevent him from catching either one of them. They only returned back home well past the time that had been settled with their parents, with them – still overexcited and constantly giggling – in tow of a rather exhausted and exasperated Inean, who then had to apologize to Erezia and Kath’dril for his lack of control over his two younger brothers. Luckily Inean had their parents fullest sympathy, earning himself a reassuring ruffling through his hair by his father and the twins an only halfhearted scolding by their mother.

Only a few years later, in their seventh spring, such a small mischief would have been received completely different by their parents, probably worrying them sick, since those happy times had passed and the Plague of Undeath had broken out in Lordaeron, slowly but steadily advancing on Quel’Thalas’ borders. Their father – although judged a little overcautious at that point in time by others – sent the twins and their mother on the next best ship towards the Hinterlands, to ask for refuge with the Wildhammer clan.  
Unlike so many other unlucky souls who tried the same later, they arrived safely and were allowed to spend a relatively calm time with the dwarf clan. Poking around in the stables of the majestic gryphons the dwarves were riding, trying to maybe snatch away a newly shed feather or even to pet one of the creatures was adventure enough for Saewron and Orthorin to distract them on and off from the worries they shared with their mother regarding their home, brother and father.

In the years after their return to Silvermoon and the reunion with Inean and Kath’dril, Saewron often thought back to their times with the dwarfs with some longing.  
Between Aerie Peak and the Quel’Danil Lodge, where a small group of high elves had settled in, there had been so much room to safely explore. Often enough, if their mother had been occupied else wise or had simply been too exhausted to watch after them from worrying and later the magic withdrawals, there had been some friendly dwarf – everyone seemed to be friendly with high or blood elven children, even usually rather impatient gryphons – that had strolled about with them, or kept Orthorin busy with some playful stick fighting while Saewron chased after small animals he had discovered or examined a newfound plant.   
Back in Quel’Thalas, room to play and investigate got sparse, with some undead and trolls still prowling the environs of the only partly restored capital and the Dead Scar right in front of their noses.   
They had moved into one of the currently many empty houses inside the walls of Silvermoon and Saewron had to adjust his habits to the new conditions: instead of exploring the outside, he spent more and more time exploring the literary or fictional worlds, swiftly improving his reading skills and hungrily binge-reading every book he could get a hold of. Instead of listening to stories, like when his mother had read to him and his twin in the earlier years, their roles were now often reversed and he was reading to his mother, when she was once more too weak and confined to her bed – only poorly responding to the new mana draining techniques Grand Magister Rommath had introduced to them to temporarily cure their magic withdrawals caused by the sudden absence of the Sunwell.

At the age of twelve, Saewron and Orthorin started their official training with combat techniques in addition to the common school education. Over the course of the following two years, they both decided to specialize further in the art of rogues, for once thinking similarly again, as they were both more fascinated by the dual wielding, fast and complex techniques, instead of the slower two-handed combat style their older brother liked, who had by now reoriented his warrior training to that of a paladin like their father had already done few years earlier.

At age fourteen – scarce a year after the restoration of the Sunwell with the naaru M’uru’s help, that had improved the lives of the whole family a lot and especially Erezia’s condition – another change arose: with the accession of Inean and Kath’dril to the Argent Crusade and their new obligations there, they were now mostly only three of them living together.   
Although Saewron and his twin both missed their father, Orthorin missed their brother more, since with his departure he’d lost his preferred training partner. Despite the twins common instructions, they rarely trained together, mostly because on the one hand Saewron’s combat style as a rogue was far less aggressive and direct than Orthorin’s, who hence simply didn’t like to practice with him, and on the other hand Saewron often didn’t see fit to train as often as his by seconds older twin and instead dedicated himself and his spare time to another book or his progress in alchemy and herbalism.   
In fact, Saewron wasn’t even sure if he actually was training that much less often than his twin, he simply did it differently. While searching for herbs or other alchemical ingredients, he often used his stealth techniques to get from one place to another without being seen or he practiced his sneak attacks on suitable – mostly inanimate – targets along the way. He’d chosen the education of a rogue for its suitability to reduce the unnecessary fighting and killing as much as possible, while granting the targets that had to be dealt with – out of some necessity – a swift and painless death. To enhance his skills with those techniques he didn’t need to cross swords all day with someone else like Orthorin loved to do it.

Considering that fact, Saewron wasn’t surprised that his twin was suddenly obsessed with the idea of switching his training to the one of a monk, as soon as the new combat style became known after the discovery – or rather rediscovery – of Pandaria about three years later; similar to that of a rogue specialized in stealth-less close combat but with a major focus on different striking techniques. With his usual persistence, his twin finally managed to get the permission from their parents to travel to Orgrimmar, the orc capital, where the Horde had recruited a teacher from the distant continent and thereafter even to attend a special training in Pandaria itself.

And all of a sudden, Saewron was left alone with his mother in Silvermoon, since his father and older brother still spent most of their time with the Argent Crusade in the Plaguelands and only visited them infrequently – as infrequently as it occurred to Orthorin to interrupt his intense training program to come home for at least a couple of days. Saewron didn’t mind their absence much, he was just sometimes puzzled that all day no one tried to interrupt him in his supposedly _boring_ studies through kind mocking or an attempt to involve him in some training session, since his mother was fully content with his mere presence while maintaining her own tailoring business.

These quiet times ended roughly two years later with the sudden Third Invasion of Azeroth by the Burning Legion. Just when Inean and Kath’dril – and on this occasion Orthorin too – had all been on home leave in honor of the fifth anniversary of the formation of the Argent Crusade, the news of the assault on the Broken Isles reached Silvermoon, accompanied by the urgent call to arms addressing all battle ready, veteran members of the Horde.   
Soon after, their older brother and father left again to carry out their duty. The Battle for the Broken Shore swiftly came to a devastating end though, almost obliterating the Argent Crusade forces and heavily decimating the Horde and Alliance fleets, claiming the life of Warchief Vol’jin as well as King Varian Wrynn and – alongside countless others – Kath’dril Dawncaller.

During the course of the next days, Saewron once again tended to their by the death of her husband especially hard hit mother, while Orthorin organized their father’s funeral and their brother’s return home, who had been gravely injured in the Battle, but had been rescued by the Horde forces prior to their retreat and was still recovering in Orgrimmar.   
During Inean’s stay with them for the cremation of Kath’dril, Saewron soon began to suspect that the experience of the terrible battle must have left more than physical scars on their older brother. Inean tried to keep his dark mood especially from their mother – something Saewron was actually glad of, since her eldest son’s safe return had brought at least some of her strength back – but he also declined his younger brother’s attempts to get to the bottom of it. Saewron eventually gave in, since he couldn’t force Inean to talk anyway, and Orthorin partly convinced him that it couldn’t be too bad, since their older bother had already started to plan his return to the fighting and the remaining Argent Crusade forces.

Some months after Inean’s departure they received a message from him, stating that he’d decided to leave the Argent Crusade and instead had joined the Horde forces. That was rather surprising news, since the older brother had always been very proud of his membership with the Argent Crusade, but Saewron could well imagine that Inean was probably confronted with many painful memories back with their old mutual order now after their father’s death, hence maybe the change to leave those behind.   
Meanwhile the Horde’s and Alliance’s fight against the invaders seemed to proceed well, if the news regarding the war on the Broken Isles were true. Some important artifacts for the fight against the Burning Legion had been recovered, one of the leaders defeated in Suramar and the newly founded Armies of Legionfall were finally able to secure some footholds on the Broken Shore. Just when everything indicated an imminent improvement of the whole situation for Azeroth, the next stroke of fate hit the Dawncaller family: the death of Inean.

Saewron almost couldn’t believe the words he read when the express letter reached their home in Silvermoon; it just seemed too cruel to be true. Of course, death was always a possible outcome, if one went to war. They were all aware of this inherent risk of their own – or their husband’s – chosen profession. But that they now should have lost their older bother too, so soon after their father’s death….   
Saewron still stood numbly at the mailbox in front of their house when Orthorin came back from his daily trip for news to the Sunfury Spire and carefully freed the message from his clenched fingers. Eventually they reentered the building together and reluctantly informed their mother, who – as feared – suffered another nervous breakdown after receiving the horrible news.

With everything going on around the Tomb of Sargeras and the heavy commitment of all the fighting forces there, they decided to postpone Inean’s funeral for a while to give his former colleagues, who were still fully involved in the campaign, a chance to attend too. When the time finally came after the fall of Kil’jaeden, it was quite an impressive funeral party that gathered in Fairbreeze Village composed of several groups with different origins: general acquaintances of the family, friends of their older brother’s youth, quite a lot of comrades-in-arms that wanted to pay their last respects to the _Hero of Emerald Bay_ – as which Inean had made a name for himself right before his death, and some comrades from the Argent Crusade, though distinctly fewer of those than Saewron had expected.   
In conversations at the obsequies after the ceremony Saewron and Orthorin noticed some strange discrepancies between their knowledge of Inean’s doings in the last few months of his life and what they coincidentally heard from members of mainly the last group of attendants. To the twins astonishment, it seemed that Inean hadn’t immediately returned to the Argent Crusade after his departure from Silvermoon and that he had some serious disagreements with the cadre of the order of holy fighters after his return into their ranks. Further inquiries regarding the reasons for those disagreements got passed over, though, with varying excuses, leading Saewron to let the matter rest in deference to their late brother’s privacy. His twin on the other hand set his mind differently and – to Saewron’s displeasure – continued to try and gather some more information.

After another one of Inean’s former comrades obviously had just fled Orthorin’s attention, the rogue quickly left his mother’s seat with the comfortable chair a little off from the main pagoda, who was encircled by family acquaintances to keep her occupied anyway, and strolled over to undertake another attempt to dissuade his twin from further investigations.   
“Rin, what are you doing?”, Saewron hissed quietly, drawing his brother some steps aside from the other funeral guests as he finally got a hold of the monk, “That one looked as if you’d questioned him!”   
“ _That one_ just told me, that our dear brother didn’t just choose to leave the Argent Crusade to join the Horde army; he got expelled!”, Orthorin announced in an intense but quiet voice too.   
“What?!” Saewron blinked baffled.   
“You heard right. The priest only looked that way because he felt bad that he’d unintentionally exposed Inean’s lie to me. The _second_ lie.”   
“Well, _lie_ is probably too strong a word for...”, the younger elf began.   
“Oh please, not that again”, Orthorin interrupted him still in a low voice, “You either tell the truth or you lie, that’s it. Everything in between is just a euphemism emotional people like you come up with, because they don’t want to face the facts.” Saewron shook his head dismissively, already used to this reproach by his twin: “And you obviously merely enjoy calling our just passed away brother a liar. Don’t you have any respect for the dead?”   
“I do! And that’s exactly why I want to find out the truth about the circumstances of his death!”, the older elf explained himself emphatically, already having one eye on another member of the Argent Crusade.   
“And what is that going to change?”, Saewron asked and warned: “The only thing you will achieve if you go on like that is to upset mom!”   
“But don’t you think she especially would want to know the truth?” His brother returned his look sternly.   
“Honestly? No”, Saewron answered without much thinking, “As I said; dead is dead. To poke about in Inean’s secrets won’t bring him back to life; and I’m sure he had good reasons… not to tell us the whole truth.”   
Orthorin sighted, slightly relaxing and leaning his back against the pillar of the pagoda next to them. “I won’t argue that point”, he admitted, “It’s just… something feels wrong about all of it. I’m absolutely convinced.”   
Saewron hesitated and eyed his twin’s pondering face for a while. Maybe that was simply Orthorin’s way of dealing with his grief. “As you wish. Just be careful to keep mom from finding out. She has recovered somewhat but sill isn’t feeling well.”   
“I know”, the monk asserted, looked away and added quieter, more to himself: “Talking about emotional people.”   
Saewron almost didn’t believe his ears. “Seriously?!”, he exclaimed indignantly, hastily dropping his voice again when some of the guests’ heads briefly turned into their direction: “Sometimes I really ask myself if you actually are my twin!”   
“Just because we look the same does not mean we have to think the same!”, Orthorin paused, still avoiding his twin’s gaze, “But I’m sorry, that came across the wrong way”, he straightened himself again, “All I wanted to say is that I’m not satisfied with half-truths, Saew. Our father always told us how important honesty and justice are for the good of all. I may not be a priest or paladin, but I want to judge this whole affair on a fair basis – for myself. And to pass a fair judgment you can’t afford to be emotional or – as the Shado-Pan would say – you need to find you inner balance and focus, or you will wrong the facts.”   
The rogue didn’t completely agree with his twin, since passing judgment without any emotion, any compassion wasn’t good either in his opinion, but he wasn’t willing to start this discussion again – at least not today. “That’s surely not wrong but… just take our mother’s health into consideration, okay?”, he gave in.   
“I will.”

Nonetheless, in the evening after the ceremony, Erezia came to know the whole story after she accidentally overheard them talking about an additional mystery Orthorin had ferreted out in the afternoon: that their brother had started to use foreign blue and purple magics in battle; and that was the reason for his exclusion from the Argent Crusade. Neither Saewron nor Orthorin knew of any blue-purple magic and started to discuss the possibilities, repeating what they’d learned mainly in school or during the few quests suited for still under aged adventurers they had been tasked with up till now, being aware of blue water magic and black-purple shadow magic, when suddenly their mother’s voice added from behind:   
“Void magic, that looks sometimes black, blue and purple. But why are my two darlings talking about such a thing?”   
Awkwardly surprised, they turned around, sharing a glance and a feeling of dread immediately overcame Saewron, because he was fully aware that Orthorin would never agree to even tell a white lie to their mother. And that was exactly how everything unfolded.   
Although Erezia listened quietly to everything the older twin explained about his findings, Saewron noticed her increasing agitation and in the end she told them of the old family friend Magister Umbric who had been exiled from Silvermoon for his experiments with dangerous void magic and was last seen somewhere in the Ghostlands. He and his twin had been too young and occupied with other events back then, but their older brother had witnessed the whole case quite closely, since – especially as a paladin – the welfare of the still newly restored Sunwell had concerned him even more than everyone else.   
“Then we have to find this Magister Umbric and ask him about Inean”, Orthorin stated, and Erezia agreed:   
“I have to know what happened!”   
This earned Saewron a triumphant glance from his twin, but he didn’t share the impression that he’d been wrong with his earlier estimation; _having_ to know wasn’t the same as _wanting_ to know. But now it was too late to change anything about it anyways.

A couple of days later they were readying their mounts to set out to their new private quest, when Erezia quietly addressed her youngest son, while Orthorin was still occupied with his hawkstrider.   
“Promise me to be careful, Saew – and to keep an eye on your brother.”   
“Sure, I will”, the rogue promptly reassured, but a hint of his astonishment must have reflected in his voice, because his mother explained:   
“I remember the Magister as quite a charismatic man; he must have been, or he wouldn’t have gathered so many followers in his studies. I know you are skilled with your judgment of people and aren’t persuaded easily by such behavior, but please stay skeptic of his words and try to remind Rin not to be lulled by some pledges for… power. You know his tendencies as well as I do.”   
“I do and I will. I promise”, Saewron asserted once again in good earnest.

After bidding their mother a hearty farewell, the twins first traveled to the Sanctum of the Moon, where the arts of the arcane had been studied in the past and which seemed a good starting point for their search for the Magister and his followers. Apart from some wild creatures attracted by the arcane resonances still perceptible around the decaying building, the sanctum was abandoned though, but they found some evidence of recent use in at least some parts of the complex.   
Following these clues and additional ones they stumbled upon later on in their paper chase, after several days they finally reached Dawnstar Spire. Here the signs of recent inhabitants were obvious, but nonetheless nobody was around. It took them several additional days until they managed to find and decipher the instructions by the Magister that were obviously left for people who wanted to follow the exiles. Before they completed the last step of the instruction, they sent another letter home describing their progress, then they finally entered – combat-ready – the slightly eerie, black and purple shimmering portal that had opened at the top of the Spire.

In the Telogrus Rift they were greeted by a strange landscape virtually bare of any vegetation and composed of several floating, rocky islands surrounded by a deep purple sky, that was regularly pierced by blueish, brighter purple lightning in varying places. A surprisingly numerous group of sin’dorei was busying themselves across the different areas of the location, but the first ones that took notice of their arrival were some scaly lizards as big as wolfs that did not only move by normal walking, but were also able to teleport themselves over short distances.   
While Orthorin cautiously kept his guard, Saewron soon lowered his daggers and started to study the animals more closely; the beasts seemed primarily curious, not hostile. In the wake of the purple-blue lizards, a fair haired blood elf in robes neared and stopped in front of them slightly out of breath, unfazed by the stares of the animals. “Interesting; it’s as if they could instantly sense anything new in their territory”, he mused intrigued, before addressing them in a melodic voice: “Bal’a dash, malanore”, he accompanied his words with a buff to their stamina, “Don’t mind the voidstalkers, they are harmless now that they are accustomed to us. I’m Luthir, Magister Umbric’s assistant. How can I help you?”

Luthir – to leave out their surnames seemed custom for all the exiles – turned out to be quite a capable and willing guide, who explained to them in length what the different groups of sin’dorei were doing where and introduced them to the more important scholars as well as to Magister Umbric himself in the end.   
When the twins asked the leader of the exiles about Inean, he promptly admitted that their brother had come to them while they had still been working in Dawnstar Spire in search of something to support him in the fight against the Burning Legion, but also affirmed that the paladin had left again empty handed later on. The mage showed concern but also a heavy interest in what had happened, when he heard about the strange powers Inean had revealed on the battlefield and was deeply saddened by their brothers fate. All in all, Saewron did believe the Magister’s words, although he didn’t like Umbric’s further inquiries about the matter, which turned their brother more and more into an object of investigation and so he excused himself after a while and left Orthorin to it, who knew more about the affair through his investigations anyways.   
Instead, the younger twin strolled about for some time, ending up at the voidstalker research station of which their guide earlier on had talked quite passionately, since he worked there himself. The Magister’s assistant noticed the curious rogue soon and wasn’t averse at all to telling Saewron some more about his group’s findings regarding the effects of the void on the general flora and fauna plus especially the voidstalkers.

It was already evening when Saewron finally went looking for his twin again, who was still observing the Magister’s work with some strange cubic machinery.   
“Time to go, Rin. Don’t you think? Your questions regarding Inean should be answered by now.”   
“Not completely. I would really like to read through the papers Inean was given during his stay at Dawnstar Spire”, Orthorin objected, “But the Magister was rather reluctant to hand them over to me... yet.”   
Saewron immediately pricked up his ears, “And what do you want with those if even Umbric and the other researchers don’t consult them anymore?”   
The monk raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that obvious? Inean must have found something that the Magister has disregarded. Our dear bother hasn’t become the Hero of Emerald Bay by doing nothing! But if there is a way to use these void energies with such success, we have to find it for the good of all.”   
“I don’t know…”, Saewron mused doubtfully.   
“Either way, it’s quite late already”, Orthorin noted casually passing over his brothers objection, “If we leave now, we’ll have to stay at Dawnstar Spire for the night anyways, therefore we can also stay here and leave tomorrow afternoon... if you insist. That way we will reach Tranquillien in the evening and from there we can travel on the next day to Fairbreeze and again onward back to Silvermoon.”   
Saewron had to admit to himself that he was badly tempted. This afternoon talking shop with the Magister’s assistant about the research on plants and animals had been awesome. He hadn’t had such an exciting conversation in a very long time and even if it did happen, then it was with his herbalism teacher. That had still been something rather different; his teacher was… well, his teacher and centuries older than him, Luthir on the other hand was only a little older than Inean had been, hence not much older than himself considering sin’dorei standards. To stay half a day longer couldn’t be that bad, Inean had had distinctly more time to read those papers, so even if Orthorin got hold of them he wouldn’t be able to achieve much in such a short time. He himself on the other hand; a night and half a day were plenty of time to talk. And Orthorin’s planning wasn’t neglectable either.   
“Okay, you are right. Let’s leave tomorrow”, he relented. Saewron couldn’t suspect how much he would come to regret this decision some days later.

The next day around noon, after Magister Umbric had spent the whole morning – to Orthorin’s disappointment – completely engaged in his work trying to open the mysterious cube, two additional new guests arrived at the Telogrus Rift: Alleria Windrunner and an Alliance champion, who had also been looking for the exiles. While the Magister himself – honored by the presence of such an important visitor – showed them around, chance brought it about that in another, only meant to be illustrating attempt to open the device, the cube actually was unlocked.   
Immediately everyone in the small, Void-infested world – except for the two newcomers – were gripped by an alien power that utterly paralyzed them and started to infuse and transform their bodies. Although Alleria and the Alliance champion were able to stop the horrible ritual, that intended to turn them all into mindless slaves, and to defeat the responsible ethereal Nether-Prince Durzaan in the end, at that point in time the sin’dorei present had already been irreversibly changed by the powers of the Void.  
When Saewron was finally able to move his limbs again, he only spent a few heavily confused moments wondering about his blueish pale skin and noticed incidentally that Luthir’s up to now blond hair suddenly was of a silvery gray, before he was overwhelmed by a chorus of jumbled, whispering voices that came out of nowhere. He couldn’t actually make out yet what they were saying, but something in those voices made Saewron feel horribly threatened and they instinctively scared him.   
Unknowing of how to react to this assault he crouched and cradled his head in his arms, but Luthir’s horrified: “Oh no!”, made him peak up again.   
“I know these voices! I’ve heard them before. Something must have gone terribly wrong with the research!” The slightly older elf – apparently similarly troubled – suddenly turned into a ball of shadow, but reformed a second later noticing Saewron’s startled reaction. “S...sorry, stupid habit of mine. I tend to accidentally use my Dispersion when I feel threatened. … Not as if it’s of any use here”, Luthir laughed abashed, “The voices – you can obviously hear them too – I’ve heard them before”, he shook his head irritatedly, “but never to such an extent. I have to find the Magister, immediately! I only hope nothing bad has happened to him!”   
Alarmed, he whirled around searching, but halted when his eyes fell once again on Saewron who was still crouched on the floor staring wide eyed alternately at him and then at nothing. “Don’t listen to them! They will only turn you mad”, he reached out a hand to the rogue, “Come on, we must go to Magister Umbric!”

They did find the leader of the exiles – his formerly pink skin now turned into a dark purple – a few minutes later, already swarmed by his followers. While Luthir attempted to squeeze himself through the crowd, the rogue instead looked out for his twin and eventually found him a short distance to the side.   
“Don’t stare at me that aghast, Saew. You aren’t looking much better yourself”, Orthorin greeted him grimly.   
His older twin was now as pale skinned as he, but his hair was of a slightly lighter blue and – that was the main reason for Saewron’s flurry – had some eerie, tiny tentacles in it.   
“I… I didn’t…”, he dropped it, secretly relieved that he himself only had to get accustomed to his now deep navy colored hair. At least vanity had never been one of Orthorin’s vices. He absentmindedly rubbed his temple trying to ignore this surprise and the still whispering voices, instead asking: “Do you know what happened?!” Orthorin nodded to the side, where the crowd was still gathering. “I’m sure Umbric will tell us more soon. He discussed something with Alleria Windrunner before she and that champion left.” With that he resumed his cross-legged sitting position, rested his wrists in a relaxed fashion on top of his knees and closed his eyes, starting to hover soon after.   
Slightly envious, Saewron eyed his twin while waiting patiently. He’d already tried meditation himself under Orthorin’s instructions a few times, but had never been able to achieve the necessary inner calm; now it would surely have been perfect to ignore these annoying whispers in his mind for a while, but as it stood, he would have to find another way to reach that effect for himself.

As predicted by Orthorin, soon Magister Umbric addressed his people and explained to the ren’dorei, the children of the Void, as they would now be called, that Alleria Windrunner would return soon to teach them how to control their new powers and how to silence the whispers, as she had been taught by her teacher the Locus-Walker. In exchange for this promised gift, the Magister had pledged the void elves to Alleria as an additional leader and through her also to the Alliance.   
“How are we going to explain all of this to mom?”, Saewron asked his twin in a pained whisper, feeling increasingly unable to cope with everything that had happened today. Orthorin simply shrugged. “I guess we’ll have some time to think about that yet, before we even get a chance to try.”

Once again the older twin was right. Over the course of the next days they weren’t allowed to leave the Telogrus Rift, because Alleria Windrunner and Magister Umbric regarded them in their current unpracticed state too great a danger to be unleashed upon Azeroth. They – understandably – weren’t willing to ruin their fledgling people’s yet to be gained reputation with their new allies through hasty actions. Some of the ren’dorei already had to be killed or committed suicide after being driven mad by the constant whispers a few hours after their transformation. The Void’s influence upon all of them wasn’t anything that could be dismissed easily.   
Meanwhile they were trained by Alleria in a technique they eventually dubbed _ren’endal_ , breath of the void. To some extent this actually was a special way of breathing, that put the practitioner into a meditation-like state of mind, in which he was floating far above his own emotions, since those – or at least all the dark and negative ones – were the main cause that triggered the whispers. While being in the state of ren’endal, the void elf was still able to recognize and feel those emotions, but by distancing himself from them, the emotions lost their quality as contact point for the void upon their owner.  
It didn’t take long until Saewron became heavily frustrated with the ren’endal; similar to his experiences with meditation, he had to struggle each time to attain the state in the first place and even if he succeeded, especially strong emotions of any kind shattered his concentration in a heartbeat. He also didn’t like the strange self-distancing at all and quickly felt alienated from himself, but having to bear the constant whispers of the Void wasn’t any better either. He still tried his best to improve his mastery of the technique, since – apart from having access to a way to escape the whispers for a while – he wanted to be allowed to leave the Rift at least for a short time as soon as possible, but Alleria was – justifiably so – a strict teacher.   
In the end it was Orthorin who was first allowed to travel to Azeroth for a spell, although it didn’t come as a surprise considering the monk’s experience with meditation, that massively helped with mastering the ren’endal. Since their combat training to master their new powers still had to begin, Saewron couldn’t be sure yet, but all in all his twin seemed to adapt impressively well to their new circumstances and embraced his involuntary changes with open arms.

When Orthorin returned from his trip to Stormwind though, he still looked rather shaken. Worried, Saewron hurried to his twins side and asked after what had happened. His brother turned out to be pretty reluctant about sharing his news, but eventually he couldn’t keep the truth from the rogue without breaking his own habits.   
“Our mother is dead”, he revealed hesitantly.

It required the Pain Suppression of one of the void elf priests, who was fortunately nearby, for Saewron to finally be able to enter the ren’endal once again, after he’d come dangerously close to loosing himself in the whispers of the Void.   
He still couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face while Orthorin further elaborated his experience. With some detours and the help of a faction neutral agent he’d been able to make contact with Silvermoon, only to learn that the rumors of an attack on the exiles at the Telogrus Rift, that had reportedly either killed everyone or turned the attendants into some void-corrupted monsters recruited by the Alliance, had already reached the Horde and with it also their mother. In her weakened state the old sin’dorei simply couldn’t cope with the news of the highly likely loss of the last two members of her family. This time she hadn’t recovered from her nervous breakdown.  
Two additional times a discipline priest needed to lend Saewron a helping hand later on this day, to keep the voices of the Void in check until the younger of the twins fell into a state of numbness in which the ren’endal was no longer threatened to be shattered by the next thought of their mother’s decease.   
With that, his motivation for pretty much anything was gone too, though, and he sat absentmindedly at the lunch table the next day, ignoring the plate in front of him. Orthorin on the other hand seemed to have already overcome his dolefulness from the previous day.   
“Pull yourself together, Saew. It’s hard that we’ve now lost all of our family, but we probably would have gone our own way soon anyhow. We aren’t children any longer!”, he tried to allay his twin’s mood, “Both our parents had already lived long lives when we were born. We knew that they wouldn’t grow that much older.”   
“You don’t understand”, Saewron objected feebly, “It’s my fault, Rin.”   
“Nonsense, how can anything that has happened be your fault?”   
“We should have left the same day we came here. But I...”, he’d been selfish, “I promised mom to stay careful”, and instead he himself had been lulled into prolonging their stay, although not by any pledges for power but instead by the hope for a friendship that now had claimed a price that seemed far too high even if it flowered.  
Orthorin shook his head disagreeingly. “That was simply a coincidence. It would have been unreasonable to leave that evening. And what really killed our mother in the end was her misinterpretation of some _rumors_. That had exactly nothing to do with our earlier decision.”   
None of these interjections eased Saewron’s bad conscience in the slightest though and he continued to avoid his brother’s expectant eye, which seemed to upset him.   
“You know what, if you go to such lengths to simply ignore the facts around what happened, I think you simply want an excuse to feel bad. Probably you are just unhappy because you are a void elf now, who’s biggest weakness is exactly your emotionality. Now you’re forced to learn to deal with that, or else...”, he left the rest unsaid and rose resolutely from the table, “I for my part am not going to let this little turn of events ruin my future. The Alliance and the ren’dorei are as good a place to set out into my life as were the Horde plus the sin’dorei. I won’t let you take that from me.” Saewron still stared motionless into the direction where his twin had vanished when Magister Umbric stepped up to the rogue a while later and kindly but resolutely sent him off to the voidstalker research station to help his assistant with the experiments there.

The work and conversation with Luthir – although the later was rather one sided at the start – actually managed to dispel Saewron’s stupor to some degree. While they cared for the animals, the Magister’s assistant confessed that now, after his transformation into a void elf, he was suddenly entertaining the idea of switching his specialization from the former shadow priest to that of a discipline or even holy priest, fascinated by the challenging interaction of his new nature with the converse spells.   
“Wouldn’t that be ironic? I would finally do as my _beloved_ family always desired even though they would now definitely kill me on sight”, his amused, still melodic and now faintly echoing laughter actually sparked Saewron’s curiosity:   
“What do you mean by that?”   
Following his question the Magister’s assistant told him willingly of his past.

Luthir’s parents had been – and probably still were – dedicated members of the Heirs of the Holy Light, a rather fanatical cult belonging to the Church of the Holy Light and his upbringing had been dictated by their doctrine.   
He’d been fifteen when the Scourge invaded Quel’Thalas, and similar to Inean he’d been kept as far from the fighting as possible, but his regular training as a priest caused him to be told off to work in the infirmary. For the whole duration of the war around Silvermoon he’d assisted with the healing of incessant amounts of horribly wounded fighters and innocent citizens who had been caught in the crossfire between the quel’dorei defenders and the Scourge. He’d seen so many people die, had witnessed so much hurt and sorrow and had lost so many of his friends that when he’d finally returned to his family and had learned that all the members of the cult had spent the whole duration of the fighting hidden away in their sanctuary, doing nothing else than to pray, young Luthir had started to seriously question his religious instructions.   
In a mixture of sincere opposition and pubertal rebellion he’d begun to read more and more _blasphemous_ texts and committed some dubious rituals dedicated to the adversaries of the Holy and the Light, that had actually awakened some powers similar to those of a shadow priest in him. When his parents and the rest of the cult had found out, he’d been severely punished several times, but instead of giving in, he’d finally run away to the capital.   
Soon though he’d been found out by some agents hired by his family. He had tried to get away from them without much success, when Magister Umbric – still resident in Silvermoon at the time – had come to his rescue, probably alerted by Luthir’s untrained use of shadow magic. Instead of handing the still under aged blood elf over to his abusive parents, the scholar had taken him on as his assistant for his still early studies of shadow energies and the Void.   
Although Luthir’s official employment with the Magister hadn’t changed over all these years, his feelings for the scholar had transformed from an initial simple gratitude to veneration and finally to an unconditional love, that unfortunately hadn’t yet been reciprocated by the Magister. Luthir seemed quite optimistic and especially patient though in regard to a future realization of his wish, as soon as the Magister wouldn’t be that absorbed by his work anymore.

Saewron was quite surprised by the offhanded manner in which Luthir brought up his desires, since he knew that some people would react with aversion to such a disregard of conventions, but he himself didn't care much. He’d thus far not thought a lot about it, but it seemed obvious to him that emotional affection didn’t need to coincide with any biological attributes in such a highly developed culture as that of any elves, who had parted with most savage animal instincts millennia ago. It also fit the rebellious streak Luthir had evidently developed – accentuated also by his eccentric haircut, that left one side of his head mostly bare, while on the other side his hair fell freely down to his shoulder – that was probably one of the reasons they got along that well.   
Although to a far minor extent as the Magister’s assistant and definitely with less intention, Saewron had sometimes felt himself like the rebel of at least the male part of his family; a scholar among warriors; the only one that didn’t strive to become a famous battle hero since the day he held a weapon in his hand for the first time. In school he’d never quite fit in that well with their fellow pupils and he’d often times felt misunderstood by his brother’s and father. The only person in their family that had fully accepted him as he was had been his mother… _who has now died, because you haven’t kept your promise_.   
This time the wave of hurt and guilt accompanying the whispers crashed through the remains of his numbness that had preserved the ren’endal and the returning voices sounded downright gleeful to be no longer shut out of his mind.  
Luthir immediately noticed that Saewron’s attention had been drawn away from his telling and he abandoned what he’d just been doing, worriedly stepping up to the rogue.   
“Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m not as skilled in the arts of diversion as the Magister had hoped for after all.”   
“I’m… sorry. Orthorin is right... we aren’t children anymore”, Saewron uttered falteringly, hastily brushing away his tears. He had to struggle hard to keep focused on the other elf and to ignore the voices in his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, he sighed glumly, “I really make a terrible void elf.”   
“Balderdash!”, Luthir exclaimed vehemently, “You just lost someone dear to you on top of everything else that happened. I’m rather surprised your twin takes all of it so easily. So, don’t apologize to me and don’t even start to think you’re simply not suited to be a void elf! You only need some more time”, the older elf meant cheerfully. “Let me try… I’ve something I’d like to show you”, he smiled conspiratorially, “Maybe that will help you silence the whispers again.” He turned buoyantly to the back of the research marquees, where an additional room was hidden behind a canvas and dragged Saewron along gently.

The surprise by Luthir was a purple fox, that the voidstalkers had found some days back near Argus. The initially hurt and scared animal had turned out to be of quite a cheerful nature after being cared for by the Magister’s assistant. Now, with some small encouragement by its rescuer, it curiously inspected Saewron’s outstretched hand and jollily started to play with the two elves.   
The fascinating part about the animal though – that actually managed to let Saewron forget about the whispers – was the ability to temporarily reject the impact of the Void on its body. The process didn’t seem to have further effects on its general playfulness, but whenever it happened, its usually blue-violet fur turned a vivid golden.   
“Did you already find out how she does that?”, Saewron asked, seated cross-legged on the floor with the weary fox curled up in his lap, while he continued to pet its incredibly fluffy ears; something the small, tail-wagging animal obviously enjoyed as much as he did.   
“No, I’ve already run most experiments with her that I could think off”, Luthir explained, casually leaning against one of the tent-posts across from Saewron. “The only one left would be to dissect her”, he laughed awkwardly and – as a reaction to Saewron’s darkening gaze – hastily added: “Don’t worry! I don’t really want to do that.”   
“What a relief! I already thought I needed to reserve one of my garrotes for you”, the rogue commented dryly, earning him a chuckle from the older elf.

After a comfortable silence Luthir once again rose to speak: “I think she’ll be happy to go with you when you leave.”   
“Leave? With me?”, Saewron stared puzzled at the priest.   
“Well, as soon as Alleria is satisfied with our progress, you and most of the other ren’dorei will probably set out to accomplish heroic deeds in the name of the Alliance.”   
The rogue wavered doubtfully, “Do you think she’ll let me leave too?”   
“Sure, I’m certain of it”, Luthir answered promptly and held his gaze with a confident smile, that actually woke a distant approval in Saewron.   
“And you? Don’t you want to keep… her?”, he scratched the foxes head illustratively.  
“I’ll go wherever the Magister goes and that’s most likely no place for a pet. I would have to lock her up all day only to keep her from knocking over our experimental set-up. But you and me will surely keep in touch and if I can think of another test that won’t harm her you can simply lend her back to me briefly. Don’t you think?”   
“Why certainly! But in that case you at least have to name her.”   
“Hm”, the older elf mused for a spell, “How about _Tulu_?”   
Saewron blushed slightly embarrassed. “Sounds adequate, I’d say”, he paused and added sincerely, “Thank you!” He didn’t only mean it for the fox.   
Luthir winked, “You’re welcome.”

Over the course of the next weeks, Tulu more than proved her _help_ fulness. Under the watchful eye of Alleria Windrunner, the ren’dorei worked through their combat training with their new void magics, slowly becoming used to the effects of the Entropic Embrace and the Spatial Rift in a fight.   
This physical part of the training was actually easier for Saewron than the earlier mental one, but often enough an unexpected Entropic Embrace in the middle of a fight – suddenly getting infused by the powers of the Void – threw him off balance; physically and mentally. To regain the ren’endal in such a situation still presented a challenge to the young rogue, but Tulu soon developed a special sense for these situations, helping out through distracting scamper or encouraging cuddles.  
Orthorin on the other hand continued to show himself intransigent, obviously scornful of his twin’s continuing troubles with their new nature and of his new companion, but Saewron didn’t let himself be deterred by that. 

The presence of the small fox with his huge, fluffy ears also allowed for the smooth proceeding of the funeral of Erezia Dawncaller. The ceremony was a rather strange experience for both twins: just for this one occasion, they were allowed to freely enter Fairbreeze Village again, where their mother’s memorial place joined the ones of her husband and her eldest son, but apart from that, the two ren’dorei were now treated like all other Alliance members and they were aware that this was probably the last time they could visit Quel’Thalas without having to expect an attack by the Silvermoon Guardians.

When they were finally allowed to move to Stormwind, it was an unfamiliar feeling for Saewron to stay in a place that wasn’t only inhabited by other void elves and – even more so – that followed a circadian rhythm that was accompanied by fitting light conditions. He was so accustomed to the consistent twilight of the Telogrus Rift that he needed a few hours to get used to the bright daily sunlight again.   
As Luthir had already expected weeks earlier, they were immediately tasked with several missions to bolster their relationship with the Alliance. While his brother decided to join the Alliance military, Saewron preferred a position that allowed for more flexibility, although that way he would have to look out for new quests regularly.   
His first assignment was a rather formal one he owed to Magister Umbric’s recommendation: he had to accompany Lady Jaina Proudmoore on her journey to her homeland Kul Tiras in search of additional allies for the Alliance. Officially he acted as a stealthy backup bodyguard, but if he was honest with himself, he felt their roles were rather the other way around; he couldn’t think of a situation in which he – a still inexperienced rogue just come of age – would actually be needed to protect this incredibly skilled and powerful mage. Even before his alignment with the Alliance he’d read many stories of the famous Daughter of the Sea. But well, easily earned coin wasn’t something he would complain about, especially now that the only things he owned were basically the few belongings he’d taken on their journey all those weeks ago and Tulu (the whole Dawncaller property had been seized by the Silvermoon authority, judging their transformation into ren’dorei as tantamount to deaths and neither Magister Umbric’s nor Alleria Windrunner’s objections on their behalf had been able to change the verdict).

Everything turned out different than expected though, when Lady Jaina – after their unfriendly welcome in the capital Boralus – was publicly accused of treason for the happenings in Theramore during the Third War, outcast from her family by her own mother and arrested to be punished according to Kul Tiran law; with death – as Priscilla Ashvane, an old friend of Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore suggested.   
Saewron didn’t consider for a single moment to interfere with the events; the only thing he would have probably achieved was to immediately start a war between Kul Tiras and the Alliance. Instead he didn’t put up any resistance when he, too, was put in chains and deported to Tol Dagor, a prison belonging to the Ashvane Trading Company.  
Conveniently, a prison break happened as soon as Saewron arrived in Tol Dagor; started by his cell mate Flynn Fairwind. With the help of Taelia Fordragon, who awaited them outside of the prison with a boat to flee the island, they all returned to Boralus, where they met with Harbormaster Sir Cyrus Crestfall, an old knight who had once fought for the deceased Daelin Proudmoore and who had organized the whole escape.   
At the same time King Greymane and the 7th-Legion arrived in the capital and only the Harbormaster’s decisive intervention prevented an escalation between the mainland forces and the harbor guard. Following this soothing of the waters, Sir Cyrus explained to the assembled people in his office that for him, the arrest of Lady Jaina and the Alliance emissary had been another sign that confirmed his suspicion, that the Lord Admiral was manipulated or at least misinformed by her adviser friend regarding the situation of whole Kul Tiras. Through his interference he hoped for Saewron’s – and the Alliance’s – help to save the land from being corrupted any further and to resolve the misunderstandings between the Lord Admiral and her daughter as well as those between Kul Tiras and the Alliance.

Over the course of the next month, Saewron and additional Alliance champions soon discovered in collaboration with Flynn and Taelia that Priscilla Ashvane wasn’t only manipulating her old friend, but planned to overthrow the current Lord Admiral and take control not only of the nations wealth, which was already in her hand, but also of the nations military. To achieve this goal, the Ashvane Company, who had started to produce Azerite powered weapons, was conspiring with pirate bands to spread chaos and destabilize the land.   
When they had finally gathered enough evidence to confront the Lord Admiral with the betrayal of her friend, crafty Priscilla was alas able to escape, but at least Lady Jaina’s mother was now willing to negotiate with the Alliance on friendly terms. Genn Greymane was also able to convince Katherine Proudmoore to grant her daughter a stay of execution, but since Jaina’s exile prior to her later conviction had been administered by the Ashvane Trading Company, her whereabouts were now unknown. Saewron immediately volunteered to search for clues, spurred by the wonderful prospect of helping with the reunion of the deviously broken apart family members. 

As usual, things proved to be a little more complicated than expected, but with Flynn Fairwind’s assistance the rogue eventually discovered that Jaina Proudmoore had been shipped to Fate’s End, an island off the coast of Stormsong Valley, where the worst criminals and traitors were taken, never to return. Only with the protection of a tidesage – a Kul Tiran sea priest – and after the completion of a complicated ritual this haunted island could be approached safely.   
When Saewron finally reached the island together with Brother Pike, Jaina herself – apart from her staff – was nowhere to be found, but he discovered that she had been pulled into the realm of Thros, where the cursed spirits of the Drust resided, a population of seafaring vrykul who had inhabited Kul Tiras millennia ago, before they were supplanted by human settlers. With the help of the Kul Tiran druids of Drustvar, who inherited many old practices from the vrykul, Saewron and Katherine Proudmoore were in the end able to open a doorway to the realm and to save Jaina, by helping her overcome her deepest regrets – her conflicts with Arthas, Varian and last but not least her father Daelin – and by reconciling the daughter and her mother.

As soon as they returned to Boralus, ready to celebrate Lady Jaina’s homecoming, hostile ships were spotted at the horizon; Priscilla Ashvane and her pirates attacked. Knowing the city’s defenses would not be enough, Katherine handed Daelin Proudmoore’s anchor-pendant to Jaina, which usually acted as some magical guiding light for the Kul Tiran fleet, but so far hadn’t worked in the hands of the Lord Admiral. Jaina however was up to recalling the legendary fleet, which until then had been held hostage in a magical storm by the corrupted Tidesages. The fleet, led by Jaina’s youngest brother Tandred Proudmoore, swiftly reacted and surrounded the pirate ships. The outnumbered Priscilla Ashvane surrendered and was arrested in her formerly owned prison on the isle of Tol Dagor. In the aftermath, Katherine Proudmoore stepped down from her office and named Lady Jaina the new Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras.

After all this excitement, Saewron allowed himself a break and visited the Telogrus Rift for a while, where he also met with Luthir to exchange their experiences. The Magister’s assistant had been on the road a lot lately – testing his healing skills, since the ren’dorei that hadn’t joined the regular efforts of the Alliance still took part in the current happenings; either through special task forces, supporting the Fourth War against the Horde mainly in Zuldazar or through small groups entering hot spots in conflict areas across the whole of Zandalar and Kul Tiras.

Back in Boralus, Saewron learned that in the meantime the Alliance military had struck against Dazar’alor, killing King Rastakahn and destroying the Zandalari fleet; delivering a heavy blow to the Horde. His twin had carried out another outstanding job; returning unharmed and being – yet again – promoted.   
Less pleasant was the news of the disappearance of Lady Ashvane out of Tol Dagor; her whereabouts and accomplices a continuing mystery. At least her whereabouts were revealed some weeks later though, when she reappeared in Nazjatar, obviously allied with the naga. Queen Azshara had used the aftermath of the Battle of Dazar’alor to attack both the Alliance and the Horde, capturing most of their battle ships in her kingdom.   
While Orthorin was transferred there to fight against this new threat, Saewron kept to the daily duties on the two insular continents, enriched with sporadic group tasks, that – despite his attempts – disappointingly didn’t result in any new long term acquaintances.

When the news of Queen Azshara’s defeat in Nazjatar and shortly after Sylvanas Windrunner’s abandonment of the Horde following the brief Siege of Orgrimmar was announced, Saewron had just discovered the Royal Library of Stormwind for himself and started to spend quite a lot of his time there, rereading the various histories he already knew from his _old life_ now again from the Alliance point of view.   
Strangely enough his new reputation as regular guest of the otherwise rather deserted library seemed to have spread, because it was there he was eventually contacted by a messenger that delivered an ominous letter inviting him and Orthorin to a meeting in the Dalaran over Crystalsong Forest.   
When Saewron passed the invitation on to his twin at the next opportunity in Boralus, the monk was rather annoyed about his decision to agree in both their names with the appointment, emphasizing that in comparison to _other_ people, he didn’t have that much spare time to waste and remained with the ambiguous notice that he would maybe join the meeting if he actually found the time, before he took off.  
Saewron only noticed that he was clutching Tulu rather hard to his chest, when the little fox uttered a soft protesting bark.   
“Sorry!”, he sighed and relaxed his grip, still standing in the middle of Tradewinds Market while all around him people busily hurried past with their mounts, while others laughed or talked in groups, “Sometimes it just feels as if I’d lost him too”, he mused, scratching Tulu’s ears apologetically and then falling silent. Talking extensively with your pet usually wasn’t helpful if you already regularly earned suspicious looks from passersby because of some... bias regarding your race – although reality wasn’t that far-off.   
He couldn’t understand his twin anymore. Whatever he did, it only earned him scorn. After his initial irritation back in the Telogrus Rift he’d even believed that Orthorin only tried to help him with his strange behavior in a somehow twisted kind of way and he’d thought the monk would stop it when they were both sent out to Stormwind; but no. He shook his head. Why did he even care? He didn’t need his twins approval to the way he lived his life now.   
_Don’t you? How brave of you, little void elf. So grown-up. Well, but there isn’t anybody else either, who could do so, right?_ The whispers scoffed and then laughed.   
As of late it was frequently the case – approximately since it had become general knowledge that with the fall of Queen Azshara the Old God N’Zoth had been freed from his prison and unleashed upon Azeroth – neither his attempts to ignore the voices nor Tulu’s attentive nudges helped to silence them again, but thanks to some of his recent alchemical experiments, there was a third option now. Saewron downed one of the small portions, suppressing a relieved sigh when the whispers immediately fell silent as if someone had cut all their throats with a single sword strike. Then he headed for the Sanctum of the Sages, where the portal to Stormwind could be found, drawn back to his reading.

Saewron was fully aware of the portal in the Wizard’s Sanctum in the center of the Mage Quarter that could have taken him directly to his destination, but he was still early for the ominous appointment this evening and his arising nervousness – now that the time for the meeting had actually come – had rendered concentrated reading impossible, so he had decided to make a little detour on his way to Dalaran.   
A borrowed tabard had teleported him to the Argent Tournament Grounds north of Sindragosa’s Fall, in the northeast area of Icecrown. One part of him – shivering in the unaccustomed cold – regretted his earlier decision, the other part enjoyed the freezing wind blowing around him on his Vulpine Familiar, while he flew south alongside the mountains towards Dalaran. The temperature alerted his senses and helped him sort his thoughts.   
When he had first received the invitation, he had hesitated, but then his curiosity had eventually won. Now the objections raised by the cautious, wary fighter in him were back, while the inquisitive, unconcerned scholar was pushed into the background. Was it actually such a smart idea to show up alone at a meeting point suggested by an unknown person in a rather empty city? Then again, it was still a city – a sanctuary even – and not some abandoned ruin in an even more abandoned area. And who exactly would have reason to harm him – or rather them, since Orthorin’s attendance had been requested too – specifically?

When he finally reached the flying city above Crystalsong Forest, he still circled once around the inn on silent wings to scout for something strange before leading his mount to land at the entrance of the Legerdemain Lounge.   
As soon as he stepped through the doorway, he froze in a mixture of incredulous surprise and sudden horror, when his gaze fell upon the only person inside the inn apart from waiters and his first reaction was to wonder if he’d now gone completely insane. When the figure – apparently not a hallucination after all – uttered his name, with the so typical chill and slightly echoing voice, his brain immediately made the connections: Northrend and death knight together with Bolvar’s announcement to raise a new generation of undead fighters. Overwhelming delight made him Shadowstep across the room and enfold his evidently revived older brother in a fierce embrace.  
After the first few awkward minutes in which Saewron had to inform Inean – now as death knight called Naethir – about their mother’s decease, they had sat down at one of the oval tables in the inn.   
Saewron unobtrusively examined his older brother – who was still deep in thoughts after hearing the news – over the rim of his glass, taking another sip. The drink had been Ine… Naethir’s choice and slightly burned his tongue, but tasted pleasant apart from this. What did he know about death knights? Regarding their initial connection with the Scourge and his own past as quel’dorei, he should have probably been horrified about what his bother had turned into, but in his mind the years of fighting alongside the incredible warriors with their runeforged weapons overshadowed the time in which he’d been scared by them as members of the Scourge – and above all; this _was_ his presumed dead and lost brother that had now been returned to them!   
His formerly ousted scholar now stepped up and he started to quiz his brother about his experiences as death knight, curiously comparing the elder’s words with what he’d read himself. Saewron was still mentally digesting the acquired information, absentmindedly bending down to pet Tulu, who had abandoned her formerly curled up position and was now skulking around his chair, when Naethir surprised him with an unexpected question:   
“Are you aware that that’s probably the only animal of its kind left in our timeline?” “Tulu? Why?”   
“She’s of a fox species that has been native in Argus mainly around Mac’Aree before its conquest by the Burning Legion many millennia ago. I can’t understand nowhere near enough how by the light of the naaru she’s come into your property!”   
“I don’t really know either. A friend of mine found her while he was questing through the Void near Argus. She must have somehow got horribly lost all these years ago”, Saewron explained, wondering at the same time how his older brother had come to know that – not even Luthir had been able to determine Tulu’s exact origin – and slightly irritated about his invocation that was usually used by draenei if at all. The rogue’s thoughts were scattered though, since their conversation now turned towards the Void, the Telogrus Rift and his and Orthorin’s experiences there.

Surprisingly his twin seemed to have found some _spare time to waste_ after all; roughly half an hour late, the last of the brothers eventually strolled into The Legerdemain Lounge, covering his initial surprise at the sight of Naethir quite smoothly and soon addressing a fact that had completely slipped Saewron’s mind: their brother wasn’t only a death knight now, he also was a void elf! Somehow his mind had automatically explained all changes in appearance – the slightly fairer skin tone and the darker hair – of his brother with the transformation after his death and since they were talking Thalassian anyways plus were staying in a faction neutral city, he’d not even wondered about the fact that he was chatting with a putative enemy faction member without any problems.  
Naethir’s following explanation of his experiments with the powers of the Void that eventually lead to his transformation into a ren’dorei death knight got interrupted several times by Orthorin. As always, the monk was quite thorough and didn’t hesitate to pry even the rather delicate details out with his inquiry and his comments were – as by now also usual – mostly accompanied by some skit at the younger twin’s cost.   
At first Saewron tried to counter them, but he soon grew tired of the – in his opinion – childish game and since he also didn’t wanted to spoil their reunion with their older brother through his and his twins seemingly endless squabbling, he instead washed his ripostes and the growing frustration down with the Caraway Burnwine. At least the whispers stayed quiet since he’d already drunk one of his potions at the beginning of the meeting – its effect usually held for several hours – because their additional comments would have definitely made him lose his composure in one way or another.   
Even so, especially after Orthorin’s sudden and incredibly _kind_ farewell words, Saewron wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Naethir asked after what had happened between them, as soon as his twin was out of sight.  
So, now they were both _a waste of time_ to the monk? Lately everything seemed to be exactly that in Orthorin’s opinion. Was there anything apart from his progress with and within the military that he didn’t consider a waste of time?   
_But isn’t he right? Why should he spend time with you? He’s a successful ren’dorei now, who makes his people proud. You are just a small casual worker who still can’t cope with the side effects of the powers of the Void half of the time._   
Saewron suppressed a shudder. The potion should still work. Had he actually just heard whispers or was he even beginning to do their work for them? Naethir calling his name interrupted his troubled musing.   
“Sorry, I was thinking about something.” He nervously glanced at the serving staff and had to take a deep breath to steady his stomach again. Everything was slightly swaying. That damn Burnwine was definitely stronger than the drinks he was used to. Maybe that was the problem. The effect of his potions probably didn’t mix well with too much alcohol.   
To Saewron’s relief, Naethir wasn’t averse to the suggestion to leave the inn behind before the continuation of their conversation, that then carried on until late into the night.

The next day Saewron rose still tired after the short night and with a slight headache, but rather content. Judging by the course of their conversation yesterday, he and Naethir now got along quite well. Not as if it had been the contrary back before Inean’s death, but then it had usually been Orthorin that had spent significantly more time with their older brother. He himself and the firstborn son of the Dawncallers simply didn’t have much mutual interests to talk about, but now his experiences prior to his death and the time up to his resurrection as death knight seemed to have added some more depth and thoughtfulness to the formerly fairly blunt and straightforward fighter.   
In unusually cheerful spirits, Saewron set out to join the defensive movements against the Black Empire Invasions commanded by N’Zoth that regularly assaulted Uldum around the Forge of Origination and the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, where the Heart of the defeated Old God Y’Shaarj had once been sealed away in a vault.

Over the course of the next weeks he met with not only Luthir from time to time, but also repeatedly with Naethir, exchanging their thoughts about their past lives and discussing the threat of N’Zoth and Ny’alotha – the alternate reality inhabited by the Old Gods and their numerous minions, that reflected a nightmarish future of an Azeroth conquered by the Black Empire and the Void.  
Naethir was positive that for him, the best way to support the fight against the Old God were the Horrific Visions; he was determined to expose himself in this – relatively – safe environment for slowly increasing amounts of time to the influence and insanity of N’Zoth, hereby improving his own resistance and control over the effects. This way he would be ready, if one day the terrible dream of the Old Gods would become reality and – this time – capable of dealing with the influences of the Void, maybe even to an extent that he could turn their own powers against them.  
Considering Naethir’s past experiences with the void magic, Saewron comprehend this path of thought of his older brother quite well, but for himself the Visions weren’t as promising. He’d tried his luck with them, but every time he was happy to escape them as soon as possible; to him they proved too thin a line between loosing only his sanity inside the artificial environment within the Chamber of the Heart and loosing his actual sanity, since the whispers of the Void in his mind were always eager to react to the things he was forced to witness within the Visions: to see what would happen if Alleria and Umbric finally gave in to the whispers and acted as obliging heralds to the Old Gods or how the Horde would develop under the command of Thrall and Rexxar, who had run over to N’Zoth really wasn’t something he wanted to live through again and again.   
To enter Ny’alotha, the Waking City, head-on, like Orthorin and his military division did – as Saewron knew, although his twin still avoided his and the older brother’s company – wasn’t an option either, since this wasn’t a task for an uncoordinated group of motley fighters that teamed up spontaneously and he still lacked any contacts that could provide him with the possibility to join a more stable and experienced enterprise.

The longer he spent only dabbling in all these things without an option to actually commit himself to anything, the more his general motivation drained away and he started to once again spend more and more time reading through the myriad valuable tomes in Stormwind’s Royal Library. His deeds felt futile in comparison with what others had already achieved, or even merely an unnecessary risk that provided no lasting progress, while the gaining of knowledge provided him with permanent benefits.  
Something else apart from his uncertain purpose within the Alliance troubled Saewron though; since roughly a dozen days he was haunted by weird dreams, that he wasn’t capable of dispelling permanently. His cheeks started to burn if he only thought about them and that often drew a whole chorus of whispers of the Void, which he was only able to silence with one of his concoctions. This worried him slightly too, because it seemed like he had to use those more and more often lately and he had started to feel faintly sick if he – for once – didn’t actually had a reason to consume another one regularly. On the other hand, that wasn’t actually a problem: the ingredients he needed for his potions were easy to get by in Azeroth and even if he lacked the time to collect the herbs himself, the auction houses usually burst with offers, since the usage of various potions – though usually to enhance one’s combat power and not solely to steady one’s frame of mind – were commonplace for most fighters regardless of their status and hence the supply was as high as the demand.  
All in all he was anything else than happy with his current situation, but also couldn’t identify a way to do anything about it. He seemed to wait for something big in the future, something that would give him a wake-up call and a new, more achievable goal that was worth fighting for. His past experience concerning the way of life on Azeroth – as short as it was – told Saewron that this would most likely be the case; as soon as N’Zoth was – hopefully – defeated, some kind of new threat would arise… and this time, he would be at the cutting edge.

* * *

**Shadowlands teaser:**

  * What might go wrong if Saewron – actually running low on supplies – finds himself in the situation that he has to test new anti whisper concoctions with herbs from the Shadowlands?
  * Will the new challenges in the Shadowlands be enough to dispel his lack of motivation – as hoped for – or does this require something else entirely?
  * How will Luthir react, if someone unexpected arrives in Telogrus Rift asking for aid to track down Saewron within the Shadowlands; will a collaboration be accomplished?



**Author's Note:**

> #disclaimer: In case anybody felt a strange familiarity with my “ren’endal”; you probably read Robert Jordan’s / Brandon Sanderson’s “The Wheel of Time”. Their concept of “The Flame and the Void” heavily inspired my idea here … well, that parallel wasn’t really far to seek, right? ;) A huge shout-out to them in any case; and I can absolutely recommend that book series to every fantasy lover.


End file.
